


In All My Dreams I Drown

by YegelleTezeta



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, M/M, Modern Girl in Thedas, Non-Inquisitor Original Female Character, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-12 19:56:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4492632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YegelleTezeta/pseuds/YegelleTezeta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No amount of training, meditation, or planning can prepare for an unknown force ripping you from one world to another. Carol finds herself in such a position, trying to make sense of and find her place in the world of Thedas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White Noise

Soft thumps echoed in the near-barren room as Carol padded across the mat of the dojo, her hakama swishing softly as she moved. In the center of one of the walls hung a portrait of Osensei, to which Carol faced, knelt, and bowed, her hazel eyes meeting the printed opaque ones of the first master. 

The radio played a pleasant tinkling of Chopin as hands met hair, weaving a simple waist-length mahogany braid: a standard practice for her pre-class meditations. She hummed along to Nocturnes op 9 and reflected on the day, letting thoughts ebb and flow, not clinging, just experiencing the emotions and ideas flitting through her mind. 

At times, she barely believed she was there. Years passed before she managed to garner enough interest to open her own Aikido dojo in town. Tonight would mark the first children's class, and Carol's heart swelled with pride at the adult students who volunteered to help her with the children. When she left the big-city life, she worried she'd never get to practice her dream, never find balance or feel centered. Now she had a class of 20 students, some of which would test soon for 1st kyu. 

A sharp crackle interrupted her thoughts as the radio shifted from Chopin to a brief news update about upcoming sunspots and what to do if experiencing EMPs. Carol used the break in music to stand and stretch, snorting at the idea that a powerful enough EMP would hit them. 

Comptine d'un autre été switched on and Carol bowed again briefly before lunging out at an imagined opponent, timing her attacks to the beat of the ivory notes. Her braid whipped around her as she then picked up speed, closed her eyes, and floated across the mat. Her body swayed, loose but strong, as she pivoted, twirled, and rolled. Hands marked invisible wrists to lead into kata dori men uchi shiho nage and she moved to transition to-- 

the radio crackled again, and only a trained eye could notice the slight falter in her step at the loss. No news break though, and no music followed. 

Carol sighed and walked towards the radio, fiddling with the knobs to see if she could get it back to normal. Her efforts only managed to increase the frequency and intensity of the crackling, until she gave up, turned off the radio, and started to walk away. 

The hissing white noise didn't stop, though, and kept getting louder. Carol quickly turned back to unplug the device, thinking something must've short-circuited, and her head started to ache from the ever-rising volume-- 

\-- _is that shouting I hear?_ \-- 

as she reached for the plug something burst behind her, around her, inside her, her head felt like it was going to explode, lungs heaving, sight overwhelmed by a vibrant emerald green flash. 

Then, she saw nothing.


	2. Dreams and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions, of a sort.

Blurred faces flashed and muffled sounds reverberated in the chambers of Carol's mind as her mouth refused to open and release the trapped screams of pain. Every part of her felt alight with an unquenchable flame that burned from her toes to the tips of her ears. The pain crescendoed into a crux of agony, extending above and beyond to where she felt certain she would die. 

Then, there was silence. 

The first thing she felt was the cold. Finally, she could breathe. Slow tendrils of normal, painless feeling creeped through her veins until Carol managed to shift her body, which she discovered was lying prone on a cobblestone floor. The discomfort and ache of residual pain in that small shift left her gasping as she more carefully and slowly adjusted to where she could sit up and gather her thoughts. 

The last thing she remembered was the radio. It buzzed and hurt her head. She tried to unplug it. Now she found herself on a stone floor, _caged in a cell_ , with nothing but the clothes on her back. She no longer wore her gi--someone must have changed her clothes--rather she found herself in a moss green top with a dark leather vest, bracers, and a similarly dark pair of leather pants. She wore no shoes. 

"I find that I am confused," Carol rasped as she voiced her thought process. "Most likely solution: I electrocuted myself and am actually lying on the floor of the dojo, and this is all a dream. Judging by the pain I felt, I might be in dire need of medical attention. Carl should arrive within a half hour or so, and can take me to the hospital. Least likely situation: I've been kidnapped by some weird cult that fetishizes leather. My students will eventually report me missing. In the meantime I will find a way to escape. Either way, there's little that worrying would help." 

A slight sheen of moisture reflected on the floor, walls, and bars to her cell, while the cold draftiness helped her recognize that her dream placed her in a winter setting. She marveled at the detail of her dream, noting the cracks crawling up the walls of the room and the flickering flames of the sconces on pillars around the center. 

"I wonder if my mind better mimics images and ideas from the real world from the electrocution? Like a jumpstart to the neurons firing in my head to where things feel so _real_. Perhaps this is how lucid dreamers experience dreaming all the time? If I even remember this dream, I should look this up later." She wiggled her body, testing the muscles, then decided she should try to stretch. If this is a dream, she should explore, and if this is a kidnapping, she should work her body up to where she can defend herself. 

Green light flashed in her peripherals and she turned to find she was not alone. In the cell next to hers a body lay curled in the fetal position as a familiar emerald light peeked through the gaps between one hand clasped tightly against an arm, and a sharp cry came from the huddled figure that curled up further. 

"Are you alright?!" Carol crawled over to the bars separating them to get a closer look at the person. The figure lifted their head to face her, and she gasped. 

Dark lines curled up and around the man's face weaving intricate lines and thorny vines that complemented his copper skin, while jade eyes gleamed at her in the dim lighting. He had angular features, with a high jaw and sharp chin that jutted out under thin lips that despite the situation seemed ever quirked in a half-smile. A second glance at his hand confirmed that it was the source of the green glow, and seemed to cause him great pain. What stood out even more than that, though, were the distinct points at the end of his larger-than-average ears. 

"Well, now I know this is a dream. Elves and glowing hands..." 

The man-elf lifted an eyebrow and frowned. "What have they done to you, sister, that you do not recognize your own?" He tutted and added, "Of course, I'd end up with the crazy cellmate as my hope for escaping." Another flash of green, this time brighter and crackling, interrupted his musing and he cried out louder as his eyes rolled up into his head and he passed out. 

Carol slumped against the bars between them and sighed. "Okay. Now that I know this is a dream, I can wake up anytime. Let's see. Pinching! Movies and books reference it often enough." She pinched her forearm but nothing happened besides the familiar sting and pulse of nerves shooting pain signals up her arm. Wariness spread in her mind and body as she considered how _real_ everything felt. The textures of her clothing, the cool stone that grated gently as she moved her palms across it, and the chill starting to settle in her bones. 

But she knew this had to be a dream. People did not have glowing hands and pointy ears. Was she dying? Her body spread on the floor of a dojo, nothing and no one to help in time after all? _WHY_ did this feel so _real_? 

A loud thud shattered the silence as a beam of light shot through the dungeon through an opened door, and two figures eclipsed in shadow approached the cells. As they moved closer, Carol noted that they too wore strange clothes and had distinct features. 

The taller one was a woman with short raven hair and cheekbones that looked like they could cut glass, a long scar trailing down one cheek. She wore armor with some sort of tentacled eye engraved on the chestplate. A shield hung off her back, a sword sat hilted on her hip, and her thunderous gaze upon meeting Carol's eyes could melt icebergs. 

Carol quickly averted her eyes to look at the woman's companion. The man also had pointed ears like her cellmate, but had near-alabaster skin and a larger frame. Light reflected off of his well-shaved head and he wore what seemed to be animal pelts over a loose tunic and tight leggings. He was also barefoot, and his cool steel-blue eyes gazed at her and the other man-elf with concern and perhaps mild curiosity, based on the subtle shift of expressions on his face. 

Now seemed like a good time to be quiet and observe, especially considering the ferocity shown in the warrior-woman who stood before her, but her own curiosity compelled Carol to speak. "Who are you? Where am I?" 

Surprise flashed across the woman's face until she hardened her expression further. "I will ask the questions, prisoner. You and your companion were the only ones to survive the Conclave. Everyone died, and you stand accused of their deaths and you have the audacity to pretend--" 

The man-elf interjected with a soft voice. "Seeker, this prisoner seems to be well enough, so we can assume the cry emanated from the one with the mark, presumably due to the latest expansion of the Breach. Please allow me to examine him again and try to abate the pain and spreading." 

The Seeker, as he called her, nodded briefly before summoning a guard that stood just outside the room. "Open the cell and stand with Solas and the other apostate. Watch them both closely, only healing magic allowed. I must fetch Sister Leliana for a proper interrogation of them both." 

Before the Seeker could leave Carol cried out. "Wait! You can't leave me in here. What is a Conclave, or a Breach, or a mark? Did you say magic? Please, I need something to work with. This is one of the most confusing dreams I've ever had and if you're a reflection of my subconscious I'd _really_ like to know why I'm suddenly dreaming of elves and magic and other fantasy things while my real body might be dying!" 

Her outburst caused them to look at her in mixed expressions: the guard of confusion, the Seeker of suspicion, and the elf called Solas of curiosity.

With a tight expression, the Seeker turned to the guard and barked out orders. "Watch her closely as well, Tomas. Though we could not sense magic from her, if she considers this a dream she must have some experience traveling the Fade. She may have latent abilities or some other trickery."

"Yes, Lady Cassandra." 

The woman, now revealed as Cassandra, stalked back to the cell. "This is no dream, prisoner, and though you might have planned to die while executing this evil, you will be held accountable for your actions. Even if I must cut you down to serve justice to those we lost this day." 

The door slammed shut, and Carol curled up into herself, arms huddled around knees as she tried to clear her mind, to focus, to meditate, and find peace to just _wake up, wake up, this is a dream, you need help, you're dying, Carol come on, WAKE UP_

Solas's hands started to glow in a hazy blue light that swept over the other elf, sparkling and leaving an aura of warmth that reached over to Carol. Her eyes widened briefly, feeling the tendrils crawling up her skin, and she promptly fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't clear, Lavellan's tattoos represent Elgar'nan.


	3. Interrogations and Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things just get more confusing for poor Carol.

Flowers painted a soft grass carpet in an open field where Carol stood in a bright yellow sundress. Dirt dusted her feet as she ambled around. This field was so familiar, but... she shouldn't be here. Something felt _wrong_ \--the colors were too bright, the grass crinkled strangely underfoot. 

Across the field two people sat on a blanket and ate food from a wooden basket. A wave of confusion rushed over Carol as she saw herself as a little girl, sitting with her mother. _This... isn't real. Isn't right._ Her mouth felt incredibly dry and she tried to call out but her voice caught into a strangling garble as the vision changed. The thing that looked like her mother flew through a purple haze in front of her, face twisted into a terrible snarl as it transformed. 

_"You just won't play nice, will you foolish girl?"_

The creature tried to swipe at her, but before it's claws could rake across her face Carol was jolted from the strange dream. 

Carol's mind buzzed as she opened her eyes. A groan escaped her lips as she noticed that she was still trapped in a dungeon. This time she knelt in the center of the room, and her muscles cried out in stiffness from the forced position. Iron shackles covered the leather bracers on her wrists. 

Guards filled the room now with swords drawn, hesitant glances shooting back and forth as they watched and waited for her to react. To her left knelt her fellow prisoner, whose eyes remained shut. Carol wondered that he didn't topple over. 

"I'm still here," she blurted. Eyes widened in panic as the guards shifted their swords up against her, prompting a small squeak of panic. "Ok, ok! Got it! I won't say anything else!" Her thoughts raced regardless. _Did I just 'Inception' myself? Dreams within dreams? Though that dream felt nothing like this._

Forced silence did little to calm Carol, so she tested her environment. She shivered and shuddered. The motion intended to distract the guards into thinking she was scared, while really it was a way to help wake up her body. It worked, and they did not raise their swords against her. The shackles would prove difficult to take care of, but they were bound in front of her. Much easier to maneuver, and they hadn't even bothered to tie up her feet. _Shoddy work. I suppose I should thank my subconscious for not treating me like Houdini._

Another few minutes passed of pausing, hanging her head, subtly shifting her body, and analyzing how she could manage to subdue the guards _and_ help the poor sod next to her. If--and that was a very strong _IF_ \--this wasn't a dream, she supposed he might've been part of some experiment and torture making his hand change like that. But why would they surgically alter his ears? Did it have something to do with that other one, Solas something? The other people, including the guards in this room, all seemed human. 

Once again, confusion and curiosity caused more questions to rise. If she still lay here, how much time transpired in the real world? People talked enough about their life flashing before their eyes, but this certainly wasn't her life, nor what she'd want to see before dying. Plus, how harmful could that electric shock have been? She was grounded on the floor, it was just a tiny radio... _Focus, Carol. One thing at a time._

Dungeon doors opened revealing the warrior-woman called Cassandra and some new woman. The latter shrouded herself in a purple cloak and dress with chainmail, and a hood covered most of her face. While Cassandra wore the all too familiar expression of murder on her face, the second woman's expression evoked more terror in the cold, calculated glint behind her eyes. 

To Carol's left, her partner-in-crime's hand sputtered green and flashed brilliantly, causing his back to arch and a pitiful cry to erupt from his mouth. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly, taking in the change in surroundings. His eyes met Carol's and she tried to express an unspoken alliance with a subtle nod and shift in eyebrows belying the smile that she could not show. His eyes widened briefly in understanding but before he could respond, Cassandra grabbed his chin and forced him to meet her gaze. 

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now. The Conclave was destroyed. Everyone who attended now lies dead. Except for the two of you. Our soldiers saw your accomplice carrying you out of a rift right after the explosion." 

The elf looked sharply over to Carol, a scrutinizing but not unkind look on his face. She tried to keep her expression neutral to avoid confirming something she couldn't remember doing to her interrogators. Plus if it brought her fellow prisoner more to her side, she would not want to deter him from finding her a friend. 

The hooded woman frowned and let out a soft sigh. "Cassandra." The sternness in her voice told much: she was to be the real interrogator, and Cassandra revealed something she shouldn't have. 

Cassandra shifted. "My apologies, Leliana." Her eyebrows furrowed as she grabbed the elf's glowing hand. "Explain this." 

"I... can't." 

"What do you mean you can't?!" 

The elf's expression hardened. "I don't know what that thing is, or how it got there." 

The harshness in his voice prompted an equally harsh response from Cassandra, who reached down and grabbed him by the shoulders of his tunic. "You're lying! You and your accomplice could not be more obvious in your guilt if you wore their blood on your hands!" 

The hooded woman, now revealed as Leliana, chose to intervene at this point. "We need them, Cassandra." A small gleam flickered into her eyes, and Carol did not like the new expression on her face. "Well, we need _him_." 

The implication caused Carol and her companion to start. Carol's heart rate sped up when one of the nearby guards shoved her onto her hands and knees, holding his blade dangerously close. She felt cool steel against her neck and instinct took over. 

She deftly twisted her torso to where she lay on her back to kick the guard's feet out from underneath. While he fell she arched and pushed her shoulders into the ground to jump to a standing position. The other guards and the interrogators quickly fell upon her. In her current state she could hardly do damage against them, but the door was still open and at the very least she could _run_. Muscle memory guided her into weaving in and out between them, ducking and rolling over backs until she passed through them like a phantom towards the door. 

Cassandra shouted to some of the guards to stay with the other prisoner while they tripped over themselves in the chaos. 

Carol turned her head back briefly to shout over them, hoping that the poor man could hear her. "I'll come back for you, I promise!" 

That's when she ran face-first into something soft but firm. Her eyes and mind tried to adjust from battle-mode to figure out what it was. It was a chest. A _man's_ chest. It was that elf from before, Solas, who had magic glowing hands. 

She ducked behind him just as the others caught up. 

"Perhaps I should worry that we cannot contain two elves surrounded by Chantry forces for more than a few days," he murmured to where only she could hear. His tone sounded grim, but behind his eyes shone mild amusement underneath the concern. 

Carol merely blinked at him. "Two... elves?" 

His eyebrows rose but before he could speak Cassandra thundered, "Solas, do not try to protect that elf. She reinforces her guilt by evading justice." 

At this point Carol's confusion and ferocity swelled to where she couldn't care less about staying silent. "Justice?! Your guard had a blade to my neck! No trial, no witnesses, no jury of my peers... you didn't even let me _speak_ before deciding. And quit with the 'elf' nonsense, I am very obviously--" Carol reached to tug at her ears and demonstrate their roundedness, when she discovered they, too, were pointed. "Carol," she sputtered out, 

What had they done to her?!


	4. People Person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol tries to play nice.

An elf.

She was an elf. A _small_ elf, at that, if she had Solas’s height to compare herself with. 

“Well, now I know this is a dream. Great. My body’s in who knows what kind of state and my mind decides it’s time to play pretend and change me from a human to an elf.” She thumped her head against Solas’s back and sighed, justifying the action by asserting that he wasn’t real anyway.

_At least this is just a dream. I don’t have to worry as much... but then… if this is a dream, that means I am lying somewhere, maybe in a hospital by now. How much time passed? How could I even measure that?_ A sense of dread overcame her. _I have to be careful, still. What would happen if I died in this dream? Would it mean my body in the real world gave up? I can’t take any chances._

Carol felt Solas stiffen slightly at her touch. She lifted her head and took a couple of steps back to look past him and study her surroundings in the few seconds she had until she needed to act. _One._ A very large campsite—or was it a small village?—isolated in the mountains. _Two._ Armored men and women scattered about, slowly pausing to turn and see the commotion. _Three._ A stone tower, containing the dungeon she was housed in. _Four._ Up in the sky, a blazing green light that looked far too familiar for her liking. _Five._ Cassandra, stopped a few feet from Carol and Solas. Carol took note of the warrior’s guarded stance. A flash of realization: she doesn’t trust him. Useful information.

_Time’s up._ Carol moved forward, adjusting her posture to look more open and relaxed. She extended her hands out slightly, palms open, in a position she knew would convey complete harmlessness. _She is a woman guided by her emotions. Appeal to them._

“Lady… Cassandra. I know my actions just now increase suspicion and seem to implicate me further. But please… consider my position.” She allowed her hands to drop, and lowered her head in a supplicant manner. “I went from going about my work to suddenly waking to find myself imprisoned, threatened, finding out people died…” Stepping just a little bit forward—but still closer to Solas than to Cassandra—she continued. “ _Please_. If you do not believe me, at least allow me to speak for myself in an honest trial. Not murdered unjustly, without evidence, in a dark dungeon where no one would know about what happened to an elf who merely saw someone in pain and wanted to help.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened slightly and some of the clouded anger disappeared from her eyes. Not all of it, though. “You deserve a trial, at least. I can promise no more.” She sheathed her sword and adjusted her stance as Leliana appeared beside her.

Leliana’s voice was cool, and carried a silky smooth tone that reminded Carol of a python coiling itself to strike. “Simple interrogation tactics… had we wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be standing now.” Her words were directed to Carol, but Carol noticed her gaze flicked back to Solas. _She’s wary of him, too._ “Solas, we need you at the forward camp with Varric. Another rift opened, and your skills can keep the demons at bay. Your theory will be tested soon enough—the other prisoner seems well enough to travel. Cassandra will escort them to meet you there.”

Solas nodded, and from his expression seemed to understand the real message, as did Carol: this was not his concern. His eyes pierced into Carol’s once more before he turned and left.

“Cassandra, get the other prisoner ready. I will watch over this one while you do.”

As Cassandra left, Leliana moved over to Carol and circled slowly around her. “Your skill belies your station… and your story. Even if you are innocent of killing the Most Holy, I know a spy when I see one. I don’t know who you work for, but know this: my agents will watch your journey very, very closely. Your loose connection to the other prisoner is the only reason you’re still standing.” Cassandra and the other elf appeared at the door, apparently having a conversation of their own. “Remember that, or you’ll soon find an arrow in your heart and it would look like a tragic accident.”

_She operates on cunning and intimidation. Ruthless, intelligent, but still emotionally frayed right now. Use subtlety and surprise._ Carol squared her shoulders and smiled, making sure to show just the right amount of teeth. “You know how it is for small elven women… we have to learn to protect ourselves however we can.” 

Cassandra and the other prisoner walked over then, and Cassandra undid Carol’s bonds. “You both will walk in front of me. No sudden movements, no magic, and if you must speak you will do so in Common. We should not face any enemies but if we do, I will take care of them and you will not run.”

“Not much of a scenic tour, then. Pity, I’d so hoped to see more of this beautiful, sunny land.” The other elf nudged Carol with his shoulder, flashing a grin. “Call me Zathriel, lethallin. What is your name?”

“This is hardly an emergency, prisoner.” Cassandra’s warning tone broke through the conversation.

“Lady Cassandra, I’m hurt. I asked you to use my name.” Zathriel pouted. “This is clearly an emergency. I’m helping you, she’s helping you… we should at least pretend to be civilized. And that’s coming from the dances-in-the-moonlight savage Dalish.” He lifted his eyebrows at Carol, prompting her to speak. Playful as he spoke, there was a certain air of confidence, cleverness, and competence about him. 

“Carol. You can call me Carol.”

“See, that wasn’t so bad! Now we can feel a little more relaxed as we head to our doom.” He extended his arm out to Carol as if to escort her.

_Well… why not?_ Carol smiled and linked arms with him. Her smile faltered as she looked at the path in the woods ahead, leading to that foreboding green tear in the sky.

_I just have to survive until I wake up... I hope._


	5. Into the Fray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answers only lead to more questions.

Fresh snow powdered the path as the trio treaded forward. Tall trees towered above, casting soft shadows from the sun shining high above them. No animals seemed to be around, yet there was a peace in the stillness. Despite her discomfort with the situation—and her lack of shoes—Carol wryly ruminated on the scenery. _This is actually rather beautiful. If only my arm was linked with a boyfriend’s instead of a fellow convict’s…_

Her thoughts were cut short as the green tear in the sky pulsed and a corresponding cry emanated from Zathriel. She barely caught him in time as he dropped to the ground, hands clasped tightly together as if to contain the violent emerald rays shining through his fingers. He shuddered once in her arms before breathing deeply. When he looked up at Carol, she offered a small smile. “I suppose it would be stupid to ask if you were alright.”

Zathriel barked out a laugh as he pushed himself up. “I have seen better days. But, as my Keeper would say…” he altered his voice to sound like a wizened crone. “Falon’Din left me on this side of the ground today, so I must be alright.” Then, chuckling to himself, he leaned over conspiratorially and whispered, “She doesn’t really sound like that.”

Carol couldn’t help but laugh. Such an odd man… _well, no. Not a man, not really here, just a part of my mind, in this dream…_ She couldn’t afford to treat this as anything but a dream, no matter how real everything felt. Not if she wanted to keep her sanity and stay alive.

After offering a moment’s respite, Cassandra motioned for them to continue. A stone bridge lay just a bit further on the path, where soldiers stood waiting. Taking everything in stride, Cassandra offered some explanations as she set a faster pace. “The pulses are coming faster now. With each expansion of the Breach, the mark on your hand grows.” She signaled to the soldiers on the bridge as they crossed over, and the soldiers lowered their weapons. “It will kill you if we do not find a way to—“

A glowing rock hurtled towards the bridge, decimating it and sending debris flying. A stray rock struck Carol in the arm as she twisted her body to roll onto the ground without injuring herself. Ignoring the crimson trickle trailing down her arm, Carol took stock of the situation. Zathriel and Cassandra lay further up ahead, seemingly okay as they pushed themselves off the ground. One of the soldiers from the bridge, a woman by her build, lay a few feet to her left. By the looks of her position, she fell much less gracefully. Carol scurried across the snow to her and checked her pulse.

“Still breathing…” She looked up and saw the unfallen rocks teetering dangerously above. “Let’s keep you that way, shall we?” With a huff of exertion Carol pulled the unconscious woman far enough to be out of the way of any wobbling rocks. She turned towards her companions and asked, “I don’t suppose either of you have first aid training? My guess is that she has at least one broken bone. Probably a concussion, if one of the rocks hit her on the head.”

Zathriel knelt down near Carol and glanced a hand over the other woman. A soft glow emanated from his fingers, and once again Carol felt that strange warmth. “Your hands glow too? Is that contagious? What are you doing to her?”

“Shh.” Zathriel had a distant look, the one of someone focusing intently. “I was never that good a healer. Hush.” He switched to using two hands and the light from his hands brightened over where the soldier’s ribcage would be.

Distracted by the sensation that she felt, Carol looked at herself and gasped. The gash on her arm slowly started to mend, until all that was left was a rusty streak of drying blood.

Cassandra’s eyebrows furrowed and her mouth set in a grim line as she observed Carol. “You… I did not sense you using magic. And I cannot detect any within you.” Her hand moved to the pommel of her sword; a reflex, perhaps, but it spoke of her suspicion.

The cautious tone told Carol she should be concerned, but she felt a strange sort of giddiness. “Heh, magic. Elves. Tentacled eye armor. Heh.” Her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth. Shut up, Carol! “… sorry. Ahem. He cast that magicy stuff, right? Clearly it affected me, too. It’s not like magic has rules or anything.” She groaned. “Oh, please tell me I’m spending my potential last moments creating complex rules of magic in a dream world…”

The soldier stirred beside them, shifting the focus briefly off of Carol, and Zathriel sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “She should wake in a few moments.” He turned towards Carol and Cassandra. “We can ask questions later, right? Priorities, ladies. I’d rather not have to wait. Mark on my hand trying to kill me, and all.” 

Carol bit back a retort. _Well, one of us is actually dying in the real world, bub._ Instead, she nodded towards the soldier. “We can’t just leave her here.” She stood up and dusted snow off her clothes before noticing they were standing on a frozen river. “Um... we should also get to solid ground. Now. That bridge was made of _stone_ , who knows how deep the ice is frozen. Having all of that weight crashing into it…”

Out of the debris, green mists shifted and collected in a pool not far from them. A swirling mix of liquid and mist combined to take form. Foreboding dark clouds danced around stretched skin pulled taut against the creature that appeared. A cowl covered its head, revealing one gleaming eye that seemed to bore into whatever caught its gaze. Claws extended where fingers would be, and it loomed over them for a moment before letting out a deafening, inhuman shout. 

Sword already drawn, Cassandra let out a cry of her own—somehow stunning the creature momentarily. “Get behind me!” She slashed at the creature, causing it to shriek. Shifting her shield, the creature’s claws clanged as they glanced off the metal.

Carol froze, and then did what she thought anyone would do in that situation.

She laughed.

“Right. Yes. Like I’d jump into the fray as you fought off _a demon from hell_. No thank you, I’d rather wake up now.” She thought about pinching herself again, but felt so numb from everything happening that it didn’t seem worth the effort. _Longest dream ever, and it only gets worse. Does what I do here even matter? Maybe I **should** jump in, and let myself die. Maybe that would wake me up._

But it looked like she didn’t have much choice in the fight after all. As Cassandra danced around the creature, leading it away from them, two more pools appeared in front of Zathriel and Carol, and two more creatures formed. They prowled over, claws at the ready.

_This leather seems thick enough to prevent them from cutting deep enough to kill, but it would still cause serious damage. No rhythm or pattern to their attacks that I can discern. Chaotic, messy… but easy to counter. Don’t get hit, take them down. But I can’t use my hands, this isn’t like dealing with a human opponent…_

A flash of movement to her right caught her attention and she saw Zathriel run to a crate that somehow made it through the blast unscathed. On it rested a curiously designed staff with a small blade and crystal, which he grabbed and twirled as he faced their enemies. Near it lay a large sword, which she grabbed and gripped tightly. _Why would he grab a staff when a sword’s right there?_ Trying not to dwell on it, given the pressing matter in front of her, she tested the weapon in her hands. _Not as heavy as I’d expect. Longer reach than the bokken I use with students, but manageable._ She assumed a fighting stance beside her comrade.

Zathriel flashed her a quick smile that transformed into a menacing grin as he looked back at the creatures. “Ready?” The staff in his hands began to glow as his grip tightened. The energy seemed to channel through the crystal until a bolt of lightning shot at the creature on the left. “This one’s mine.”

Carol nodded and crossed her feet slowly, one over the other as she circled her opponent, always facing it. When the creature moved she shifted along the inside of its arm, dodging the strike and getting right up next to it. She ducked and shifted her blade’s edge to the creature’s torso. Her eyes widened with surprise as her blade cut all the way through. _No bones?_ She whirled around, not wanting to take chances, and hoisted the blade above her head to slice down vertically. The creature wilted away in front of her eyes and appeared to sink into the ground. Nothing remained to show that it even existed.

The other creatures fell as her companions struck them, and stillness set over the area once more. Zathriel moved to Carol’s side again and checked her briefly for injuries before laughing. “Glad you know how to use that thing, _lethallin_.”

But they couldn’t celebrate just yet. A voice of command called out, “Drop your weapons! Now!”

While Carol loosened her grip and let the sword fall to her side, she refused to let go. She was glad to see that Zathriel likewise did not let go of his staff. “You saw those creatures, right? What if more of them appear? You can’t keep us both safe by yourself.” She tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible, hoping that the warrior would understand.

Zathriel nodded. “I understand your position, Cassandra, but we must be able to keep ourselves alive before you decide to chop off our heads or not, yes? Besides…” he shifted his palm upward to release a small ball of fire. “I don’t need a staff.”

After everything she’d just seen, Carol was too tired to care about one more piece of madness. _Lightning, fire, healing, demons…just another day, now. Can’t be worse than waking up as an elf in jail._ “We will still walk in front of you, so you can keep an eye on our every movement. Please, let us defend ourselves.”

Cassandra mulled it over for a moment, then nodded. “Fine. I cannot protect you from everything. You know the risk should you try anything.” She sheathed her sword, then looked at Carol once more. “When we get to the forward camp, we will have a discussion about your… abilities. For now, you need to equip yourselves better. Go back to the crate and see if you can find a sheath and straps for your weapons. There should also be some potions and other provisions nearby.”

As they outfitted themselves, a new batch of soldiers arrived to secure the area. They carried off the soldier that had been healed and said she would be taken back to the tower for proper care. The comment made Zathriel huff as he tightened his straps and walked over to help a struggling Carol with hers.

“Proper care… there’s nothing wrong with my healing. Pfft.” He tightened a buckle and stood back to admire his handiwork. “There. Only use those potions on your belt when you absolutely have to, alright? No idea when we’ll get more of them.”

Carol studied her reflection in the ice below. She looked like hell already, and the day was far from over.

“If you’re both ready, we need to move. See that green glow just over those hills? It’s not far now. Let’s go.”

Carol and Zathriel nodded, and the trio set off once more.


	6. Methodology of Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol tests a hypothesis.

Carol listened as Zathriel and Cassandra bantered and discussed what transpired in this place called Thedas. The swirling green vortex of doom flickering and pulsing above them was called the Breach. The demon creatures they fought were called Shades, supposedly coming from the Fade or Veil or whatever through the Breach. It had something to do with a Conclave and a Mage-Templar war. _I feel like I’m in school again… I should get a notebook to remember all this._

After a time, another rain of rocks and pools brought forth more Shades. This time, green specters accompanied them and hovered in a loop around them. Carol lunged towards one when her limbs suddenly felt weak. Her sword clattered to the ground as she dropped and she looked up at the creature, noticing underneath the green mist THERE seemed to be some sort of skeleton. _Hello, Grim Reaper._ It floated closer towards her and her heart thumped faster in panic. _Why am I so weak? What’s happening? GET UP, CAROL_. It moved to swipe at her and she kept her eyes open, challenging, not wanting to face death with fear.

The strike never came. A soft light enveloped her and extended outwards in a circle, stopping the blow and invigorating Carol. She grabbed her sword once more and plunged it deep through the center of the apparition. With a wail it vanished, and Carol used the momentum to cut through another Shade before trying to figure out what happened as her companions finished off the other two.

“Carol!” Zathriel rushed towards her with worry painted in his expression. “By the Creators, if I hadn’t cast a barrier around you…”

Carol offered a weak smile. “Thanks for saving me, then. I don’t know why I felt so weak, all of a sudden…” she flexed her hands and gripped her sword tighter. “But now, I feel so much stronger. Like nothing could hurt me right now.” _I wonder…_

“The creature you just saw is a Wraith. They cast weakness spells over the unwary. But I was suppressing their attacks, you shouldn’t have…” Cassandra trailed off and then looked on with horror as Carol lifted her sword and sliced at her arm.

The shouts of alarm quickly died off as they merely stared, open mouthed, at Carol’s arm.

Not even a single mark on her arm.

“I see. Interesting.” Carol sheathed her sword and quickly added, “No one try that again. I have a theory.” _Granted, I could have used a better way to test it…like, what if you were wrong? That’s how you lose an arm, girl._ “You said you couldn’t detect any magic on me, yes?” Cassandra nodded. “I don’t think I’m magical, either.” _I suppose my body recognizes its physical limitations in the real world._ “But before, when Solas healed Zathriel, and when Zathriel healed that soldier… I reacted to it. And just now, with that creature… neither of you fell, right? So maybe I’m more susceptible to magic. Good and bad.” _I wonder… if this world was real… **theoretically** … would it be because there’s no magic in mine?_

“And your first instinct was to raise a sword to your arm?! Lethallin, we must work on your logic. I prefer my companions to have their limbs.” Zathriel tutted at her, then his gaze shifted into one of curiosity. “I wonder how elemental attacks would affect you. Or…” his eyes widened. “By the Creators, I’m glad I didn’t cast rock armor on you!”

Cassandra motioned for them to proceed, but the guarded look on her face never left. “I’ve never heard of such a thing, and I have seen many strange things on my journeys. We will have Solas study this later. This makes you… a special weapon at best, a severe liability at worst. Zathriel—“

“Ooh, you said my name! Did you hear that? I think we’re becoming friends—“

A disgusted noise followed as Cassandra continued. “When we enter combat, cast a barrier around Carol immediately. It will… strengthen her, however that works, and it prevents enemies from reaching her with their magic.”

As they neared the top of the hill, the group heard shouting and picked up their pace, “Now’s as good a time as any to try it, right?” They rounded a stone wall and saw Solas fighting alongside a group of soldiers and a short, stocky man. Adrenaline and strength coursed through Carol as she felt the effects of the barrier, and she decided to indulge in some quoting. “I’m here to kick ass and chew bubblegum…” She dashed forward and sliced clean through a Shade. “… and I’m all out of bubblegum.”

The battle was quick enough, though Carol had to make sure to steer clear of Solas and Zathriel while they cast magic. Zathriel’s electric bolts made her hair stand up as her feet felt like they flew over the ground, her strikes and parries faster than ever. Solas’s frost magic made her feel… well cold, obviously, but with an edge. Cutting, sharp, her sword seemed to strike harder when around him. She reveled in the differences between the sensations, and the regenerative flux of energy whenever Zathriel reinforced the barrier around her. _This could get really addictive if I’m not careful…_

As the wave of enemies died down, Solas rushed to Zathriel and grabbed his hand. “Quickly! Before more come through!” He thrust the blazing hand towards the floating crystal tear in the sky and a fierce light shot between rift and hand.

Zathriel seemed to struggle for a moment, as if being pulled by the blazing light. Carol tried to move away but felt a pull of her own, calling her towards the chaos, until Zathriel grunted and yanked his hand back. The motion caused the light to vanish, and the rift imploded until all that was left was a tiny pile of muck.

“Ew, gross.” Carol looked around at her companions and shrugged. “What? We were all thinking it.”

The dwarfish man pressed some buttons on his crossbow and it clicked closed. He placed it tenderly on the holster on his back and strutted forward with a grim smirk. “Glad to see someone isn’t all doom and gloom. Here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.” He twirled an arrow in his hand as he spoke. “Varric Tethras, at your service. Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong.” He winked at Cassandra then, prompting an annoyed grunt from the woman. 

“These are serious times.” Cassandra turned her head to nod at Zathriel. “You were able to close it. Good. Then Solas’s theory was correct.”

Zathriel looked at his hand as if it was on fire— _amusing, considering he sets his hand on fire—focus, Carol_ —and turned towards Solas, seemingly at a loss for words.

The taller elf nodded and commented, “I studied your Mark while you slept—” 

“—what he means to say is he kept that thing from killing you—” interjected Varric—

“—and sensed that the magic from your hand carried the same energy as the rifts we observed appearing all over. It seems I was correct in my hypothesis, and that you hold the key to our salvation.”

Zathriel nodded absentmindedly, and one could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He shook his head and snorted. “Ha. I literally hold the key, don’t I?” He waved his hand back and forth. “But I must thank you, lethallin. You saved my life, and I will find a way to repay the debt.”

“Any debt can be repaid in stopping the evil that created the Breach,” Solas replied. “That said, I don’t believe we’ve had a formal introduction. You may call me Solas.” He nodded at Zathriel, and his gaze flicked over to Carol as well.

“Zathriel, First of Clan Lavellan. Zathriel for short,” he smiled and grabbed Solas’s forearm in a strong grip.

 _Carol, human turned elf in demon land. Carol for short._ “You can call me Carol.”

Varric hummed beside her. “Carol, like a song? Hmm… I can work with that.” The thoughtful expression on his face drew just a little bit of concern from the others, seeming to sense some mischievous plot unwinding in his mind.

Before she could question him, Cassandra moved away from the group and turned towards the Breach once more. “We must move quickly. We will regroup with Leliana and the others and then move forwards to the Breach, and we will end this once and for all.”

Carol sighed in relief. _The epic Quest seems to be progressing at a quick pace… hopefully this means I’m healing and will wake soon._ Epic quests, like the stories she loved to read about and see in movies. Waxing nostalgic, she said, “Alright then! You have his staff, her shield, his crossbow, and my sword.” _If only I had an axe, instead. Not that I’d know how to use it, but still. Proper quoting._

Zathriel grinned at her while the rest of them stared for a moment before moving on. A stronger team, now, they pressed forward into the mountains. 


End file.
